the only noises that came to our ears. There was
no motion of the air, not enough to disturb the leaves freshly fallen
from the numerous oak-trees on the battle-field. At each step I could
but contrast the cool, calm, Indian-summer day, with the hot, August
morning, when the battle took place.

All sounds of battle were gone, but the traces of the encounter had
not disappeared. As we followed the route leading to the field, I
turned from the beaten track and rode among the trees. Ascending a
slight acclivity, I found my horse half-stumbling over some object
between his feet. Looking down, I discovered a human skull, partly
covered by the luxuriant grass. At a little distance lay the
dismembered skeleton to which the skull evidently belonged. It was
doubtless that of some soldier who had crawled there while wounded,
and sunk exhausted at the foot of a tree. The bits of clothing
covering the ground showed that either birds or wild animals had been
busy with the remains. Not far off lay another skeleton, disturbed and
dismembered like the other.

Other traces of the conflict were visible, as I moved slowly over the
field. Here were scattered graves, each for a single person; there a
large grave, that had received a dozen bodies of the slain. Here were
fragments of clothing and equipments, pieces of broken weapons; the
shattered wheel of a caisson, and near it the exploded shell that
destroyed it. Skeletons of horses, graves of men, scarred trees,
trampled graves, the ruins of the burned wagons of the Rebels,
all formed their portion of the picture. It well illustrated the
desolation of war.

The spot where General Lyon fell was marked by a rude inscription upon
the nearest tree. The skeleton of the general's favorite horse lay
near this tree, and had been partially broken up by relic-seekers. The
long, glossy mane was cut off by the Rebel soldiers on the day after
the battle, and worn by them as a badge of honor. Subsequently the
teeth and bones were appropriated by both Rebels and Unionists. Even
the tree that designated the locality was partially stripped of its
limbs to furnish souvenirs of Wilson Creek.

During the first few days of our stay in Springfield, there were vague
rumors that the army was preparing for a long march into the enemy's
country. The Rebel army was reported at Cassville, fifty-five miles
distant, fortifying in a strong position. General Price and Governor
Jackson had convened the remnant of t